The Murder of Willow Marten
by TheDarthMoogle
Summary: Equestria is dancing to the same tune; a popular song depicting possibly Equestia's most notorious crime in written memory. Twilight Sparkle wants to learn more about her local history, but her investigation is about to take on a whole new level...
1. Chapter 1

Come all you thoughtless young folk, a warning take by me,  
>And think upon my unhappy fate to be hanged upon a tree;<br>My name is Berry Cordial, to you I do declare,  
>I courted Willow Marten, most beautiful and fair.<p>

Canterlot was horribly quiet. The sound of the wind whipping the window panes of the master bedroom was only interrupted by the occasional page turn or sip of coffee. Twilight was up late again, yet only because her friends would burst in any minute to wake her up again. The bookshelves in this part of the tower were thankfully adequate enough; it was too darn cold to put some slippers on and make the journey to the Castle Library.

Astronomy was impossible on a night like this, and Twilight was far too tired to practise anything. So instead she half buried herself in a dusty old book for children. It was about treasure and pirates, and actually rather good. She shifted off the thick pile of blankets and cushions surrounding her in her armchair and made her way toward the fire to put the kettle back on.

The irregular clack of hoofsteps, accompanied by frantic squeals and hushing coming up the grand staircase could only be the rest of the gang. Twilight quickly raced back underneath her blankets before the door swung open and sucked all of the heat from the room.

"Oh hi there, Twilight! You're awake!" bounced Pinkie as she jumped out of her bright blue boots and grabbed the prime spot in front of the fire.

"I've been asleep _all day_, so yeah..."

"As you should have been, dearest. You don't want to be feeling miserable all the way back to Ponyville, do you?"

"No... You're right. Well, where's Fluttershy? And Rainbow?"

"They said they'd be five minutes after us..." slurred Applejack. She was looking exhausted and waddled her way over to her bed. After mustering all that effort, she treated herself to a slump on the mattress, but had to try hard not to fall asleep there and then.

"So, was it good?"

"Oh, you couldn't _possibly_ imagine...", Rarity gasped. "Mr Starr was absolutely _fabulous_. I mean, at one point... I though he was looking at _me! _Oh, and the costumes were simply _divine_. The way they seamlessly brought old to the new was _incredible_, I should have taken notes... But I do feel terribly sorry we left you here..."

"No, please don't..." Twilight pleaded, "It was the only reason we came here, and it would have been such a waste for everyone if we went home just because I wasn't feeling right..."

"Now _I'm_ the one feelin' 'not right'. Ah think I ate too much." moaned Applejack as she made her way to the comfy chair opposite Twilight and let out what was in between a belch and a yawn.

"So, did you get any merch?"

"Oh, do you _really_ take me for somepony who would do that?" grinned Rarity. "Pinkie bought herself a tacky bracelet thing, there was no way she was going to spend _my _money on it..."

"Can I see it on you Pinkie?"

"Uuh... I lost it when we were dancing!"

"I'm not surprised the way _you_ were dancing, Pinkie. You went an' hit me at one point!"

"Yeah, I know... But gosh was it fun though!"

At this point, Applejack leapt out of her seat and stumbled to the window, before chundering outside.

"AJ! What the hay are you doing! This is the castle! If everypony can see that in the morning, I will... regret I ever met you."

"You don't mean that, do you Twilight? Anyway, s_omepony's_ been having too much cider and pie for one evening haven't they, Applejack..."

"Nah... nah... I'm still... standing..." she slurred before leaning over to one side, and collapsing neatly onto her bed.

The three girls still conscious giggled for a while before falling into silence as one to watch the fire. The wind had died, and only the crackling of the burning logs hung in the air. Twilight picked up the book she had selfishly left upside down on the armrest of her chair, and cursed herself for it. Those bindings are nasty to repair.

Just as she had fully immersed herself in the dreamy world of ships and pirates, the door burst open again, accompanied by another burst of biting cold. Flying in with enormous grins and squeals were Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, each holding a thin square paper bag. Rainbow gave hers to Fluttershy, and began racing around the bedchamber, looking high and low in all the nooks, crannies and cupboards.

"Oh, hello Twilight!" squealed Fluttershy "You wouldn't _believe_ what we have!" She unwrapped her paper bag to reveal a gleaming new record.

_Davie (The Rock) Starr_

_ The Red Barn LP_

_ 12 Popular Folk Songs From Across Equestria_

_ (Including his #1 Hit, The Murder of Willow Marten) _

Fluttershy was eager to point out the signature she had acquired in the bottom corner of the album cover; she hadn't stopped grinning since the moment she came in. Rainbow stuggled her way down from a high shelf carrying an aged cardboard box. She and Fluttershy placed it on the dresser to the right of the fireplace and opened it up. Inside was a beautiful redwood record player.

"All right, which one do we play?"

"Mine! MINE!" screamed Fluttershy, as she rushed over, slipping the disk out of it's sleeve and popping it in the player. Rainbow screwed the horn on, and set the disk to spin at 78rpm. The girls watched in awe as she gently placed the needle on the edge of the disk.

A small crackle and pop emitted from the player, followed by silence. Fluttershy was all set to be heavily disappointed by a broken disk, when a faint violin began to play from the horn. The noise grew and grew until a delicate, but intricate solo filled the room. Then the violin stopped. And the whole band came in.

The wondrous melting pot of layers and textures pounded the senses like nothing else. Your heartbeat changed as the drums took over your body, the drone of the hurdy gurdy haunted your soul, the guitars were the backing track to your very existence. And now two violins came in force, dancing back and fourth in your mind; each unlike the other, but speaking in total harmony. The band stopped, only leaving the simple but haunting drone. Then Davie's voice came in. It was a voice that could move mountains, yet with the force of a gentle autumnal breeze.

Up until the early hours of the morning they listened to the record over and over again. Rainbow would get up and put the needle back to the beginning almost as soon as the final song was over; but not until it was truly over, when the echoes had finally escaped your mind.

One by one they drifted into a heavy slumber, with the exception of Twilight. When the final song was over, she didn't go over to put the needle back to the beginning; she didn't want to wake anyone up. Instead she sat staring at the smouldering embers in the fireplace, imagining those same songs in her head. They made an excellent soundtrack to the children's book she had continued reading.

After waking up an uncooperative Applejack from her cider induced slumber, they went downstairs for breakfast. With the exception of Twilight and Applejack, they all ate heartily after their energetic sortie the previous night. They each thanked Princess Celestia for letting them stay in the Castle that weekend, and Rainbow politely begged to keep the record player, after realising she had none at home.

So with an extra cardboard box in tow, they made their way onto the platform to wait for the next train to Ponyville. They each gave Twilight their own account of what happened the previous night, all the gossip, news and spectacles. After much chatting and ribbing Applejack after her being reportedly seen up close and personal with another stallion, they finally made their way on board the train home.

It was a long journey, and with their own private compartment, most of the girls fell asleep. Twilight however had a tune going round her head. She unboxed the record player and placed it on the floor of the compartment. Instead of screwing in the horn, she put in a cable leading to a pair of earmuffs that put the sound directly to your ears, which amused Twilight a lot. They were very practical earmuffs too, what with even the inside of the carriage being frightfully cold.

Her restless mind was put at ease when that song played into her head. It was a story, a true story nonetheless. Her inquisitive student mind wanted to know more about _The Murder of Willow Marten_.


	2. Chapter 2

I promised I would marry her upon a certain day

Instead of that I was resolved to take her life away

I went unto her fathers house, the eighteenth day of May

And said 'My dear Willow, we will fix the wedding day'

Twilight bolted awake and upright without knowing why. She was then prodded again by the blue pegasus sat next to her. She clasped her hooves around her head, realising that the sound muffs were missing. Rarity gave a cheerful wave from across the compartment; she had removed them from the sleeping Twilight not more than an hour ago.

"Afternoon, sleepy!" slurred Applejack from underneath a selection of hastily gathered complimentary towels and blankets, probably from other empty compartments. Twilight felt incredibly uncomfortable; she needed sound going into her ears. She needed that song. She however fought the urge to appear deluded to her friends and made an oath to buy a record player and Davie Starr's LP.

The countryside rolled by the window again after they made their last stop. Dash and Applejack were in giggling fits after playing around with the speed slider to make the record play fast and slow, fast and slow in quick succession. The six of them had made enough heat to take the bite out of the air, but Twilight still asked politely for the sound muffs off Rarity, even though no music was playing through them.

They slowly chuffed into the station and ground to a halt at around late afternoon. As they stumbled out onto the platform to stretch their legs off, they were greeted by a thin layer of snow. Twilight said her farewells, and after giving Rainbow her sound muffs, immediately made her way to the second hoof shop in the centre of town.

The peace and quiet gnawed at Twilight's skull as she crumped through the snow. Everywhere she looked, the sun reflecting off the polished white earth blinded her. She burst into the shop and headed straight for the counter. She stopped frantically ringing the bell after she realised she was being terribly rude. Eventually an aged brown gentlecolt slowly came down the stairs.

"And how can I help you, young missy?" he inquired with a delicate, wise smile.

"I'm looking for a record player. Oh, and those sound earmuff things."

The gentlecolt made his way out from behind the counter and off into the bowels of the shop. He disappeared from sight, before he popped his head round the corner and bade Twilight follow him.

The shop was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. That wasn't an opinion, Twilight could feel the magic on this place. They walked past some fascinating odds and ends, Twilight felt ashamed she had never felt the urge to investigate this wonderful shop. They walked past crystal display cases of all shapes and sizes, each containing random dusty items, each different from one another. Some seemed like absolutely useless trinkets, but the gentlecolt creepily butted in.

"They all have their importance to somepony, remember that. How many ponies can you think of that are desperate for a second hoof record player?"

"Desperate?"

"Yes, Miss Sparkle. Desperate." Twilight was beyond the point of belief, but stayed quiet as she was led deeper into the treasure trove. They finally arrived at a beautiful cupboard dresser, with carvings of ships at sea on either side, and seagulls on the doors. She had it half in mind to buy the dresser, but she was low on coin, and the record player was an _absolute_ priority.

Out of the dresser was brought a clean cardboard box. It smelt new. The gentlecolt took a small silver knife out of his waistcoat and sawed at the tape covering the lid. Twilight peered inside and there it was. It was identical to the record player Rainbow had found back at the Castle, except this one hadn't been opened since the day it was bought.

The wood was a deep polished red, the swirls and shapes of solid gold lay untarnished. It was a truly breathtaking piece of art, for what Twilight assumed was a mere machine. There was even a pair of purple sound muffs included for free, so the box said. Yet a terrifying thought suddenly flooded her mind.

"And how much will this cost?" she asked, fearing the worst. It was in terrific condition after all.

"It is yours for ten bits.". Twilight was truly stunned. She dug into her coat pockets and brought out two silver coins and passed them over to him. He sealed the box up again and placed it on top of the dresser.

"Will you be all right carrying this home with you, Miss?"

"Oh yes, I'll be fine... Thank you!". Twilight levitated the box in front of her and made her way back through the incredible maze of antiques and out into the street. On the way back to the library, she made a stop at the post office to make a postal order of Davie Starr's album. She was prepared to fork out the extra bits to have it sent by dragon; the earlier she was listening to it, the happier she would be.

She hummed _The Murder of Willow Marten _all the way back home. She could pick out all of the individual parts and have them do what she wanted. She slowly began to create her own version of the song. By the time she had reached her street, she was full on dancing to her own head. The music crescendoed and slowed before coming to a deafening and earth shaking conclusion as soon as she had opened her front door and stepped inside.

"Hey Spike! I'm home!". She was eager to tell Spike how the trip went, even though she had a rather less energetic time than her peers. Yet she did have breakfast with the Princess, which sort of made up for it. But Spike was not home. Twilight took some time to remove the panic from her mind; she acknowledged Spike was a perfectly reasonable and responsible young dragon, and getting out of the library once in a while is no bad thing.

She had her thoughts to herself for far too long though, for the craving returned in force. She immediately looked for something to do, but the library was already in an immaculate state. She wasn't hungry, and she was too tired still to learn perhaps a new spell. So instead she slumped on the floor and sulked.

She tried sighing loudly. She tried moaning at the ceiling. She even screamed once or twice. Yet still that record wouldn't come any faster. She got a tune into her head of another song from the album, and went over to make herself a mug of coffee, before curling up in her favourite chair.

It was an hour before a thin square package apparated in the centre of the library, accompanied by a loud -poof-. Twilight let off a small squeal of excitement as she ravished the brown wrapping paper as if it was her birthday.

The sleeve of the record was so smooth and shiny. She delicately put the record on the floor as she shifted the box containing the record player over in front of her armchair. She gently prised open the sleeve, to be greeted by a fascinating smell. The record fitted perfectly inside the player, and the sleeve notes told her it was to be played at 78rpm. So she adjusted the lever accordingly.

And so as the needle entered the spinning groove, her imagination wallowed once more in sweet music.


	3. Chapter 3

If you will meet me at the Red Barn, as sure as I have life,  
>I will take you to Canterlot, and there make you my wife.<br>I then went home and fetched my lamp, my pickaxe and my spade,  
>I went unto the Red Barn, and there I dug her grave.<p>

The story was what fascinated Twilight the most. The happy stallion, due to be wed. The joyful parents, anticipating a beautiful partnership. The poor filly, killed in cold blood in what was a mere fit of psychotic rage. Why? What in Celestia's name was the motive for the whole ordeal?

She listened to the song just one more time, for time's sake, and then got to work. She headed downstairs into the cellar. There were some important chests here. After having a tough time levitating them back to the ground floor, she dumped them on the ground and opened them up.

The chests were full to the brim of old newspapers; a perfectly preserved window into the past. What was she looking for? Murders were so incredibly rare, but with tens of thousands of weekly tabloids in here, the chances of finding it was slim.

Time period. The song used some reasonably old language, but not too far in the distant past. Twilight picked out all of the chests containing papers before two hundred years ago and put them to one side. Unfortunately this was not a large number, as very few newspaper editions existed before then.

But by extension, the most recent years could go to one side too. This was not an event in living memory; Twilight was sure Granny Smith would have told this story if it happened in her lifetime. She would have told it if it was her grandparents' story too. So the last hundred and fifty years could go. Yet still a large pile remained.

Location. One verse mentions Canterlot. But they obviously never went there as the marriage never took place. The courts of law are in Canterlot too, but just because the trial took place there doesn't mean the murder did. However there could have been a story on it. But Canterlot newspapers came out daily, so their pile was massive. Yet there was the Red Barn. Twilight struggled to make a conclusion until she had a revelation.

Sweet Apple Acres has existed for generations, and Ponyville Town Hall has been used as a court in years gone by. Plus it has a red barn... So Ponyville was where Berry Cordial lived and where the murder took place. So Twilight picked out the manageable pile of Ponyville papers, and began sifting through from the top.

The pile took over two hours to work through, and in that time Spike had returned from wherever he had been. Twilight had no intention of asking, and Spike had no intention of telling. While he went to bed, she finally found the issue she was looking for.

THE CONFESSION AND EXECUTION OF BERRY CORDIAL

flooded the front page, accompanied by a pencil drawing of the courtroom. In the witness stand was the distraught mother, desperately and uncontrollably tearing her hair out. The father stood tall and stoic, giving a glare like daggers to the defence lawyer.

The jury was frantically muttering to one another, and the enormous crowds that had gathered to watch a once in a lifetime spectacle were in a total uproar. The guards and officers were up and shouting at the mob to gain control, and were rushing about the place like scurrying mice.

And stood still and solemn amongst the utter chaos was the accused. Berry Cordial, the murderer. Yet the way his ghostly eyes stared at the floor in front of him said otherwise. He looked so desperately sorry, that an ordinary pony would argue he didn't do it. Twilight certainly agreed, and felt sorry for the stallion.

But that feeling felt strange, too strange in fact. How can you feel sorry for a cold blooded killer, she asked herself over and over. She read on.

**Since the tragical affair Thurtell and Weave, no event has occurred connected with the criminal annals of Equestria which has exited to much interest as the trial of Berry Cordial, who was justly convicted of the murder of Willow Marten on Friday last.**

**Cordial entered a plea of not guilty. The exact cause of death could not be established. It was thought that a sharp instrument, possibly Cordial's short sword, had been plunged into Marten's eye socket, but this wound could also have been caused by her father's spade when he was exhuming the body.**

**He admitted to being in the barn with Willow but stated he had left after they argued. He claimed that while he was walking away he heard spell being cast and running back to the barn, found Maria dead with his hoofkerchief beside her.**

**After several meetings with the prison governor, entreaties from his father, and pleas from the family of Willow, he finally confessed.**

**The confession was read over carefully to the prisoner in our presence, who stated most solemnly that it was true, and that he had nothing to add to or retract from it.**

**Judge Justice Judge then issued the sentence: "That you be taken back to the prison from whence you came, and that you be taken from thence, on Monday next, to a place of Execution, and that you there be hanged by the Neck until you are Dead; and may Celestia Almighty, of her infinite goodness, have mercy on your soul."**

A plea of 'not guilty' then an instant confession? The story did not add up, neither in the paper or in the song. Twilight needed to know more. She knew exactly what to do. Out of the drawer came a roll of parchment and a quill. She was going to make a list.

First question. Why did Willow have to die?

Second question. How did this spur Berry Cordial on to kill her?

Third question. Why did he plead guilty when the governor came forward?

She sat pondering, and came to a conclusion her better instincts did not like. If no books will tell me what I want to know, then I must go back and find out for myself. So to the bookshelves it was; Twilight needed a spell to send her back in time, but not an ordinary one. That was far too dangerous, she only needed to observe the events unfolding.

In a handy tome entitled 'All One Needeth To Know About Time' she found a good selection of spells that would get the job done. One would create a separate time stream that you could alter without consequence to your own universe, but the energy needed for that was phenomenal.

The second put you in the viewpoint of anyone from history, yet you would retain your consciousness. You would just not be in control of the host. The third put an ethereal projection of yourself at ant point in time. You could safely view events from your own body, without having to interact with anyone or anything.

Despite the third being a darn sight more complicated that the second, it was easier than the first, and preferable to the two. And so she got to work. She needed a simple selection of oils and herbs to draw a protective ring and anaesthetize herself respectively. Then the magic itself was uncomplicated, just strenuous.

She drew an oval in primrose oil on the floor, and drew six lines like spokes on a wheel to the centre in lavender. She drank more herbs in water, and felt her body's senses release from her. She made her way to the centre of the oval and lay flat on her back, legs splayed outwards. She charged some pure magic in her horn, and gently touched the floor. A ring of yellow light entombed her in the circle, and the lines of lavender detached themselves from the floor, and wrapped Twilight like she was in chains.

Next came the time spell proper. The date. No. Not _the_ date. Five months before. She must know how Willow and Berry met. It would be January. Location. Ponyville. Where? Not the Library, there could be nothing here. The Red Barn? Yes. Nopony can see me anyway. Okay. Here we go.

The pure magic stored in her horn evolved into the spell. Her head felt like jelly as the horn pulsated, sending shockwaves down her body. The pulses grew larger and faster until a screaming solid light emitted from the horn. She was ready. She slowly leaned her head backward, and touched the floor with her horn again.

Her body instantly felt like it was being wrenched into pieces. She was not in pain, presumably because of the numbing potion, but the feeling was excruciatingly uncomfortable. Piece by piece, she was put back together in the black void she was travelling through faster that the speed of magic and burst into a cold and dark barn. The red barn.

She picked herself up off the floor and went to brush herself off, but nothing had stuck. She galloped to the door and pushed, but it would not move. Her quick theory was correct. No straw could have stuck to her because I cannot interact with anything here. I am a ghost. The great barn doors didn't even rattle when she thumped them hard.

She sat on a bale of hay that was very uncomfortable, as the straw wouldn't budge to accommodate the shape of her flank; she may well have been sat on rough concrete. She then had a fleeting thought minutes later that she cursed herself for not coming up with earlier. She cast a spell that allowed her to pass through walls.

She threw up on the ground after squeezing through the barn doors. Her insides felt they had been turned inside out and pulverised, and she could still taste old wood and paint. Just like the Ponyville she had left, there was a small spattering of snow on the ground, and the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky.

The barn hadn't obviously changed for hundreds of years, no wonder Applejack was keen to see it restored exactly as it was after the parasprites chomped it to the ground. She turned round again and had another look at Ponyville. The town looked so much the same, except it was smaller. Many buildings were missing, such as her library, and Fluttershy's and Rainbow's houses. The town hall was also much... bigger.

This old town hall had an entire wing tacked on the side that was the same shape and size as the present hall. Which was rather amusing. And so to business. Twilight only had a pencil drawing to go off, but it shouldn't be too hard to pick out the important faces if they were right in front of her. Lo and behold, one _did_ appear in front of her.

Cantering quickly towards the barn was a rather distraught looking Willow Marten. She recognised the long flowing hair and large eyes from another drawing in the paper. Twilight panicked. No, this wasn't the day, was it? Have I got my date wrong? But no, she looks too sad. _'If you meet me at the Red Barn...and there make you my wife'. _So she's here for another reason...

Willow stopped in front of the doors and turned around to look at the town behind her. A solitary tear fell down her face as she turned full circle and made her way inside the barn. Twilight prepared for another squeeze.

Willow cried and moaned for an hour. Twilight gave herself a kick after she started being bored with the whole ordeal. It's much more difficult to sit and watch somepony in pain than to go and talk to them. Suddenly the great door creaked open. Willow and Twilight snapped their heads round to see a head peek around the door. She was a cream coloured pony with a small face plastered in freckles, wearing a rather crude pear of spectacles. Her dark straight hair covered part of her face, and she looked out of place for two hundred years in the past.

"Verity, you should not be near me. If my father sees me in your company, _especially_ after recent events...". She broke into an unstoppable torrent of tears. "Oh, how can it _possibly _get any _worse_ than this, Verity?" she sobbed.

"Ah don't know friend... but what if your father was _wrong_..?" Verity said as she came closer and sat beside Willow.

"It means nothing whether my father was wrong or not, he will have his way, and I cannot see how I can have my life back the way it was... I wish I never met Berry at all..."

Twilight was just as shocked as Verity. "Now come on, Willow... you really don't mean that." she said matter-of-factly. "It was _fate _you two were meant ter be together... It was _chance_ that... ye'know..."

"YOU KNOW, WHAT?" screamed Willow. "YOU THINK I WANT TO FORGET?". She exhaled and gathered herself up again. "I love my father too much to let him down like this. I shall remember I was foolish enough to do so, and I sincerely hope that Berry has the decency to understand that. If he wants to start again proper, I am willing to forgive him, and I think my father will too. We after all can have more children, but it was never about that... I hurt my father's pride. And their death has put that to rights. We can start over."

"Willow, I love you like you were my own sister. But you seriously don't believe that your children... died... naturally?"

"What the hay are you suggesting.". Twilight shivered from the ice cold sincerity, things could only get worse from here.

"You know perfectly well what I'm suggesting."

"Get. Out.". No more was said. Verity stood up and brushed the tears of her friend's cheek and left. Willow put her head in her hooves and wept until the bell tolled the hour. She brushed herself down, and made her way outside.

Twilight was shaking. Things were getting complicated indeed. Willow had children five months before she was killed?


End file.
